


Sound Off

by toli-a (togina)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s, Gen, Humor, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togina/pseuds/toli-a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one ever said it was easy, dismantling HYDRA across Europe. (No one ever said it was easy, trying to coordinate the forces of chaos that were meant to be Steve's team.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound Off

**Author's Note:**

> “Natural Disasters: a History of the Howling Commandos.”

“Everybody _duck_!” Steve shouted, grabbing the nearest person — it happened to be Monty — and following his own advice, hunkering under the shield and wincing at the deafening sound of a production facility literally coming down around their ears.

Steve was up and moving as soon as the explosions stopped, climbing onto a precarious pile of concrete and machine parts to survey the scene, searching for dark hair and a blue jacket.

“Sound off!” Steve demanded, because his best friend would kick his ass into next week if Steve burst out of (another) detonating factory shouting “Bucky!” loud enough to wake the dead.

“One!” Steve gasped in relief. First the Captain, then the sergeant. Bucky was fine.

“You were bloody well just fondling me under that shield!” Falsworth chimed in, then grunted “Two!” when Jones elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Trois!” called Jackie, unearthing himself from underneath a heap of rubble and the remains of a desk, hair and eyebrows gray with cement dust.

“Vier,” Gabe rumbled, busy helping Dugan lift a steel beam off Morita, who nonetheless leaped to his feet and cried, “You’re counting for the wrong army, Jones!” as though he hadn’t almost been crushed to death several moments before.

“Six,” Dugan added, and Steve pressed his face into his palms.

“You’re _five_ , Dum Dum,” Bucky reminded him, slapping the man’s broad back and moving off to see if the command room and its documents had survived.

“Six,” Morita finished, then winced when he put his full weight on his leg, and swooned dramatically into Dugan’s arms. “Oh!” he cried, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, a short, Oriental Scarlett O’Hara. “Save me, Mr. Butler!”

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn,” Dum Dum replied, but he threw Morita over his shoulder and carried him anyway, stepping carefully out of the mess the Commandos generally left behind.

“Don’t worry, Cap,” Monty said, coming up behind him and squeezing his shoulder, apparently catching the dismayed look on Captain America’s face as he stared out over the wreckage of yet another Hydra plant. “You’re still learning.”

“I’m still _— I’m_ still,” Steve sputtered, could feel his face turning red. “I told _you_ not to come in from the left!” Somewhere on what had been the opposite end of the building, Steve could hear Bucky chortling at his expense. “I told Jackie not to light the dynamite!  I told Dum Dum to get the prisoners out, not to hand them shovels!  I —”

“Like I said,” Monty interrupted, “You’re still learning, Cap.  That’s okay.  We’re patient men.”

Steve debated leaving them in France, for that — only he worried that if he did, France might not survive.


End file.
